


The Boy King is Born

by alexjanna91



Series: Storms in Hell (Antichrist!Winchesters) [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, M/M, Pre-Slash, Wee!chesters, antichrist!boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-15
Updated: 2011-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-26 03:15:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/278051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexjanna91/pseuds/alexjanna91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a night of lightning and rain that Dean Winchester fell in love and Sam Winchester first opened his eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Boy King is Born

**Author's Note:**

> Part of my Storms in Hell arc to my Antichrist!Winchester verse.

Dean remembered that it was raining, storming with thunder and lightning loud enough to rattle the windows in their frames. He was never afraid of it though. The deep rumble of the angry sky made him smile; kept the fear away, kept his worry for his mother and his brother from overwhelming him.

His mom had been in labor for hours already. Dean knew that wasn’t normal, but he didn’t know what was wrong. He didn’t know how he could fix it; if he could fix it. His father seemed just as helpless and restless as he did.

“What is taking so long?” John demanded of the demon nurse that appeared in the door to the birthing room.

She didn’t have an answer for him, but Dean knew that the moment his little brother’s cries broke the heavy silence that their lives would forever be changed. For the better and for the worst.

Dean knew this day, this moment, was a double edged sword. Knew he should begin mourning, but he couldn’t bring himself to.

He looked up at his anxiously relieved father and grinned. “He’s finally here.” He said, ignoring his father’s perplexed look. “My baby brother is finally here.”

Nothing, not his father, not the demon nurses, not even his mother’s tired smile could have stopped Dean from rushing into that room to get a peek at the soul he’d been waiting for. His baby brother, his responsibility; his to love.

He darted past the staying hands of the nurse and rushed to his mother’s side. Death was coming, he could feel it the closer he got to her, but he pushed it to the back of his mind. After, after he’d assured himself that his baby brother was alright then he’d worry and cry and rage, but only after.

“Hey, baby.” Mary smiled down at him as he approached her side, his glowing green eyes fastened unwaveringly on the pale blue bundle in her arms. “Do you want to meet your brother?”

Dean flicked a glance at her before his eyes were drawn back to the bundle, he nodded.

“Hop up.” She instructed with a tired pat on the bed next to her. She shared an amused look with John standing in the doorway as Dean practically lunged himself at the bed.

Neither of them knew –how could they?- that at this moment, possibly even before that, Dean would fall in love. Totally and completely in love.

“This is your brother.” Mary told him as he eyed the bundle in her arms like it was the most beautiful thing in the world. “Samuel.”

Dean scrunched up his nose, but reached with a steady, sure hand and stroked his fingers down his baby brother’s downy soft cheek. The move startled Mary, but she let him continue, didn’t stop him just watched in wonder and some trepidation.

“Samuel’s too old for such a tiny baby.” Dean informed her with a serious frown on his face even as his eyes softened when Samuel’s little lips puckered out in his sleep. “I’ll call him Sammy. It will fit him so much better.”

Mary had always been astounded by her son, but there was something in the way he was watching his baby brother, in the way his voice sounded, in the way his eyes glowed that held weight, foreboding, or perhaps just foreshadowing. She watched him with a sudden apprehension as Dean slipped his hands underneath the child in her arms and lifted him from her grasp with such ease and practice she would have thought he’d been doing it all his life.

He was just four years old, though. And there was something very powerful about the way he looked at his little brother.

“Sammy.” He murmured, his eyes staring down at the bundle in his arms like a flower would stare at the sun. The baby suddenly opened his eyes and locked gazes with his brother, his protector. They were already their deep hazel and glowed just the slightest bit when they focused on Dean.

Dean smiled down at him and tightened his arms to hold the baby against his heart. “Sammy, you are perfect. You are powerful. You are strong. I will protect you, love you, and guide you. We will be as one and will never be alone. We will conquer and fight and love as one. Together and apart we will be great. Together and apart we will always love.”

His voice echoed through the room like thunder and Mary felt a shiver crawl down her spine. It was not the first time her son had done that; had let words of prophecy, truth, and edict trickle from his lips like rain down from the sky. It won’t be the last, she was sure of it.

It was, however, the most powerful. She could feel it crackle in the air and when baby Sammy lifted a pudgy hand from his blanket reaching out to his brother and Dean smiled tenderly down at him before placing a soft kiss on his palm it felt like the power had snapped into place.

Whatever her oldest had done was now signed and sealed. It could not be undone and it frightened her. She glanced over at her husband, her lover and knew that it frightened him as well.

Dean giggled a bit when Sam smiled toothlessly at him and curled his tiny fingers against Dean’s mouth curiously. He leaned his face closer to his precious bundle and whispered, “I love you, Sammy.” Sam’s bright hazel eyes slid closed as a tiny contented smile curled at his plump lips.

They were already in their own little world. They already knew their rightful places in it as well.

*

Dean could remember the first time he’d really understood that his mother was going to be having another baby. A brother or sister for him to take care of and love and he had been entranced by it.

He’d felt as the baby had kicked underneath his little hands, had listened to the baby’s heartbeat every chance he got. He’d felt his love growing for his sibling with every passing day.

But he hadn’t truly fallen in love until he’d held Sammy in his arms, felt the weight and warmth of him against his small chest, been reassured by the steady expanding of his chest with every puffed breath.

He’d felt his heart swell and ache with it. He’d known that he’d fallen in love right then and there.

Sammy was perfect. He was everything Dean thought of as beautiful and amazing and he was barely an hour old. His hazel eyes looked up at Dean as if they’d always known he would be the first one Sam saw when he finally made it into the world. He’d touched Dean with his tiny soft hand with a reverence that Dean felt echoed in every fiber of his own being.

From the moment their eyes met they were already sealed. They were already whole.

“I’ll take care of you, Sammy.” Dean whispered as he snuck into the nursery and crawled into Sam’s crib to curl up around his tiny little brother. “I promise.”

Sam huffed out a sleepy little breath in agreement and contentment. He snuggled a little closer to his big brother’s chest and curled a hand in the soft cotton of Dean’s sleep shirt.

Dean was still keeping his promise as six months past and after giving birth to her second son, Mary Winchester died in her sleep.

A mortal woman carrying half demon children rarely carried more than one. And if they did it came at a heavy cost. A human womb was not meant to nurture a demon’s spawn. The love of her husband and of her children cost Mary her life.

Dean cried in his sleep that night as he held his baby brother tighter in his arms, and Sammy whimpered against his chest. The next morning John took both his boys to Hell and never looked back.

*

End.


End file.
